


Unexpected Alpha

by dgalerab



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha Kenma, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Biting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Orgasms, Occasionally Awkward Sex, Omega Kuroo, Someone Had To
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 13:33:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13342293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dgalerab/pseuds/dgalerab
Summary: Everyone’s been expecting Kenma to present as omega, even Kuroo. When Kuroo’s the one to present as omega instead, he’s crushed by the idea that they might not be true mates - right up until Kenma goes through his first rut.





	Unexpected Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> *rage writes 5k of A/B/O* Oops.
> 
> Anyway.

Kenma has been friends with Kuroo for longer than he can remember. Kuroo was his first friend, is his best friend, and will be his friend for the rest of his life. He’s more important to Kenma than most things and there’s very, very little that Kenma wouldn’t do for him, and Kuroo knows him well enough not to ask for them anyway.

They know each other inside and out, and there is no one that Kenma would rather spend his life with.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to smack Kuroo sometimes.

“Explain this to me again. What do you mean ‘this means we won’t be true mates’?” Kenma sighs.

“I’m an omega!” Kuroo warbles. He’d had his first heat a few days ago, and had proceeded to mope around and avoid Kenma (while being sure Kenma saw Kuroo avoiding him so he’d ask what was wrong) since.

And now, here he is, weeping on his bed after Kenma had finally given in and cornered him like Kuroo _obviously wanted_.

Sometimes, Kuroo is _exhausting._

“And you’d just assumed _I’d_ be the omega,” Kenma sighs.

“Everyone did!” Kuroo says, and Kenma hits him with a pillow. “Ok I mean… I mean I figured you’d be a beta, really, but omega seemed slightly more fitting then _alpha_ and now _I’m_ the omega and we’re not gonna be soulmaaaaaates.”

“So if you’d presented as an alpha and I’d been a beta, would you still be crying?” Kenma grumbles. He’s short and he likes his hair long, and everyone has been waiting for him to present as an omega since they hit twelve.

He’d thought _Kuroo_ at least knew better than that.

He lobs another pillow in his face out of spite.

“ _Maybe_ ,” Kuroo says. “I don’t know, I wanted to be soulmates!”

“Betas don’t have true mates,” Kenma says. “Even if their partners are _alphas_.”

“I _know_ ,” Kuroo mutters. “Anyway, the reality isn’t as romantic as they sell it to be…”

Kenma chucks another pillow into his face, but Kuroo just bats it away with a sniffle. “But the thought would have been nice!”

“The thought of me driven _wild_ by your strong alpha scent?” Kenma says, rolling his eyes. He fixes Kuroo with a monotone look. “Oh, Kuroo, you’re so manly and cool, take me now.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Kuroo says, and Kenma tries to suffocate him with a pillow. He doesn’t get very far before Kuroo manages to lift him with arms twice as long as Kenma’s. Kenma isn’t going to humiliate himself by continuing to try to kill his best friend, though he’d very much like to right now. “Aw, come on, it’s a nice thought.”

“Not for me, it’s not,” Kenma mutters. Nothing sounds worse than being an omega in heat, desperate and pathetic. He supposes it’s less energy expenditure than having to be an alpha, but at what cost? Kenma is more exhausted by constantly being talked down to than he is by anything else. It’s better for Kuroo to be an omega, with his height and misleadingly intimidating smile. He won’t let any of that stereotyped omega nonsense get to him. “Anyway, so I won’t be driven crazy by your scent. It’s not like we can’t still date.”

Kuroo whines, but he flops on top of Kenma nonetheless. “I missed you,” he says. “Heats suck, apparently.”

Kenma wants to be snide, but he sighs and pets Kuroo’s stupid chicken hair instead.

Maybe he’s a little bit upset that he probably won’t know what Kuroo smells like in heat, nor have the assurance that they’re meant for each other in some way, even if it is a simple biological happenstance that people tend to hype with big words like “destiny” and “soulmates.”

But it doesn’t really matter, so long as it’s Kuroo.

-X-

Kuroo’s year ahead is getting harder and harder each time they’re apart, and Kenma wishes they could just graduate college and move in together already.

For now it’s cold, he’s eighteen and still stuck at home, he misses Kuroo more than ever, and he’s _pissed_ about it. He trudges through the snow, wading through the sludge on the roads and into school.

He’s not even in the mood to play any of his games, and that means today is going to be a terrible day.

He’s irritable all through morning practice, snaps at Lev, nearly tosses a ball into Taketora’s face, and he’s dreading the thought of class. He finds himself sprawled onto the bench in the locker room as Taketora changes beside him.

“Get dressed or you’ll be late again,” Taketora says.

For some reason, his pushy attitude is even more aggravating than it was in their first year, before they’d been friends. Kenma flips him off, pressing his forehead to the cool bench. As cold as he’d been in the snow coming to class, he’s way too hot now.

“Come on, Kenma, what’d Kuroo say,” Taketora says.

Kenma has a lot of difficulty afterwards piecing together what, exactly, had happened after that, but something about Taketora mentioning Kuroo like he _knows him better than Kenma_ sets his brain on fire. Kenma is the jealous type, sure, but Kuroo is such a moron when it comes to flirting that Kenma has never worried, and besides, it’s not like Taketora would ever be interested in Kuroo like that.

But that doesn’t seem to matter. Taketora smells like alpha and he’s talking about Kuroo and Kenma is on top of him on the floor, ready to punch him in the face before his brain, and more importantly, Fukunaga can catch up with him.

“Oh, _shit_ ,” Taketora says, while Kenma sits, dripping and bewildered, on his hips. “Dude, you _smell_.”

Fukunaga’s trusty bucket creaks a little as he stands, blinking at Kenma, as Kenma blinks back at him.

“You should probably go home,” Kai says, unperturbed. “And have your rut there.”

“I’ll walk with you,” Fukunaga says. He smells delightfully like nothing, and Kenma has never been so thankful for his presence.

“Yeah,” Kenma says. “Sorry I tackled you.”

“No problem, man,” Taketora says. “I’ve had some crazy ruts before.”

No one mentions Kuroo, and thank god for that, because if Kenma thinks of Kuroo now he’s going to literally get on a train and drag Kuroo out of his current class and probably fuck him sideways in public.

The smell is even worse outside of the locker room, a cloying mix of alpha and omega that permeates the air. Kenma is overwhelmed already by the four senses he had working overtime already, he’s going to fucking lose it if he has to deal with another. He pinches his nose and eyes shut and relies on Fukunaga’s steering to get him on the train.

Fuck. _Fuck_ , he hates this.

-X-

He spends the next few days in the shower, trying to jerk off without having to touch cum for too long. He’s going to puke if he has to feel it sticking to his fingers one more time time, but if he doesn’t cum he’s going to lose his mind and throw a shelf through his window.

At least it’s easier to drink in the shower, and that’s probably the only reason he stays hydrated at all.

Two and a half days later, he can finally get dressed and collapse on his bed without a damn erection. He doesn’t want to _think_ about sex for another week.

He switches his phone back on and starts reading messages. Most of them are frustratingly shocked messages. _Kenma? An alpha? Wow! Kenma????_ Shouyo’s message is the only one that puts a smile on his face, a thousand misspelled congratulations with about as many exclamation marks. Probably because Shouyo knows what it feels like to have everyone look at you and say “Definitely an omega.”

And, of course, lots and lots of messages from Kuroo.

**_Kenmaaaaaaa where are you I miss youuuuuuu_ **

**_Holy shit Kenma is Tora fucking with me or are you really in rut_ **

**_Shit shit shit you’re in the shower aren’t you_ **

**_Kenma oh my god KENMA OH MY GOD_ **

**_Fuck is it too soon for me to be fingering myself thinking about your knot_ **

**_I DIDN’T SAY THAT IGNORE THAT KENMA NO_ **

**_What do you smell like Kenma Tora is being unhelpful_ **

**_Gjklfjsdlkfj KENMAAAAAAAAAAAA are you even eating???? Kenma please don’t pass out in the shower while jerking off I’d have to make up a tragic story about how my first love died?????_ **

**_Seriously though PLEASE EAT AND ALSO TELL ME WHAT YOU SMELL LIKE I’M DYING_ **

**_Kenma I’m going to go into heat just thinking about it_ **

**_Kenma what if we smell gross to each other_ **

**_Kenma_ **

Kenma sighs and decides to bite the bullet and call Kuroo.

Kuroo picks up on the first ring because he’s probably been staring at his phone all day. “ _KENMA OH MY GOD.”_

“Yes,”  Kenma groans.

“ _Did you think of me?!”_

“No, I thought, ‘Ew, cum, please let this knot go away already,’” Kenma says.

“ _Kenma,_ really not even a little?” There’s a decided whine to Kuroo’s voice.

“I guess a little if that makes you feel better but also did you know cum sticks to your fingers while under water because it does and I hate it literally more than anything in the world.”

“ _When do I get to smell you?!”_

Kenma sighs. “I don’t know. Weekend? I need several days of sleep and to not think about sex for a month.”

“ _Not even sex with me?!”_

“If it involves cum I’m not interested.”

“ _What about slick_?”

“Kuro.”

 _“Sorry, sorry I’m just… god do you think we’re true mates?”_ Kuro’s voice goes a little dreamy, like the horrible romantic he is.

Kenma sighs. All “true mates” means is that they’ll smell better to each other than to anyone else. “I think I’d like you even if you smelled awful. Though I’d complain a lot during sex if you did.”

“ _That’s sweet but doesn’t make me feel better._ ”

“Goodnight, Kuro,” Kenma mumbles into his pillow.

“ _Goodnight_ ,” Kuroo sighs.

-X-

Kuroo makes them go out on a date. A real date, at a restaurant.

Kenma thinks this is ridiculous, but Kuroo does weird things to ease Kenma’s discomfort so Kenma has to do the same for his anxieties. Even if sometimes they’re amazingly stupid.

The second he opens the door to the restaurant, though, he both regrets and appreciates the decision, because he can smell Kuroo from here and if they weren’t in public Kenma would almost certainly be spreading those long, long legs across the nearest surface.

“Are you trying to keep us from jumping each other or are you preparing for me to break up with you?” Kenma asks, and as he comes up behind Kuroo, who is gripping the menu like it’s going to eat his face if he doesn’t keep it back. Kenma is shocked at how easily the words come. Kuroo’s scent is enticing, sure, but it’s comfortable too.

Kuroo’s scent hits him even harder as Kuroo turns, shifting the scarf he’s wearing around his scent glands, like he’s worried Kenma will run if he gets a whiff too fast.

“Uh,” Kuroo says, and his scent shifts before Kenma can even really form an opinion about it.

Kenma’s hand automatically comes up to rest on Kuroo’s back, because Kuroo _smells_ nervous.

Kuroo stares at him, and Kenma can feel his face slide into exhaustion. “Are you really holding your breath right now?”

“No,” Kuroo wheezes.

“Just smell me, you smell nervous and I don’t like it,” Kenma says.

Kuroo swallows and takes a deep breath.

His scent evens out as he does, and as it settles Kenma can analyze it with a clearer head. It’s a sweet sort of smell. Kenma doesn’t have a good enough sense of smell to place it, but it smells so deeply of Kuroo that Kenma is automatically drawn to it, even as the wave of hunger passes.

“You smell very… Kenma,” Kuroo says, smoothing his slender fingers over the table nervously.

Kenma sighs, sitting down across from him. “What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know. Angels singing?”

Kenma rolls his eyes. “You’re a sap.”

Kuroo ducks his head in a very un-Kuroo-like manner, and it’s suddenly awkward.

“We shouldn’t be in public for this,” Kenma decides.

“Probably not,” Kuroo agrees softly.

They stare at each other for a long time, and then both of them are standing so vehemently their chairs are clattering on the tile.

-X-

“Can I mark you?” Kenma asks. There’s a protocol to this, but he’s been either preparing to date or dating Kuroo for so long he doesn’t much care about it.

“Oh, fuck, yeah, just do it,” Kuroo says as Kenma pushes him back onto his bed.

“I won’t bite hard so we can think it over once our heads are a little clearer,” Kenma clarifies.

“Are you serious?! I’ve wanted to be your mate since before either of us presented!” Kuroo snaps. “Haven’t you?!”

“Yes,” Kenma says, but he’s not the reckless type and doesn’t intend to become one. “But I want to be _absolutely_ sure.”

“I _am_ absolutely sure!”

“You’re an idiot, is what you are,” Kenma points out, but there’s a protective urge flaring in him. Kuroo is the cautious type too, and if he’s not overthinking things it means his hormones are getting the better of him right now. And as an alpha, Kenma has to be cautious for him.

“Kenma,” Kuroo snaps.

Kenma sinks his teeth into Kuroo’s neck over his scent glands, and Kuroo gasps, going boneless. Kenma presses in hard enough to bruise, then pulls back. “Listen,” he says. “I’m your boyfriend, not your babysitter, and if you’re too addled on hormones to have a discussion with me, we’re not pushing this any further.”

Kuroo blinks at him, pupils eclipsing his irises. “ _Shit_ ,” he mutters, bringing his fingers up to the bruise Kenma left on him. “Kenma, as attractive as you being all commanding and protective is, I’m not losing my mind. I’m _sure_. I’m not going to be with anyone else. I’ve been thinking over it since Tora messaged me and now that I know you smell _incredible_ and you like my smell too, I want it to be official and fucking _permanent_.”

Kenma blinks at him. “Well… _I_ haven’t thought about it,” he says. “What if… what if we fuck up?”

“It’s not like bond marks are a life sentence. People _have_ broken up and gotten new ones. We just have to be… you know, committed.”

“You’re only _nineteen_ ,” Kenma reminds. “And attractive, and smart, and funny, and you _could_ find someone else you want more than me.”

Kuroo nudges his nose into Kenma’s scent glands and breathes in. “Nope,” he says. “I know when I’m sure.”

Kenma swallows.

Right.

He’s not an alpha to Kuroo’s omega. He’s not responsible for Kuroo, even if he has the urge to be. They’re _partners._ Kuroo has been dragging Kenma along into things for his own good since they were… what, two? “Right,” he murmurs. “Yeah, ok, I’m sure too.”

Kuroo grins that hideous grin at him as Kenma lowers his teeth back to Kuroo’s scent glands and bites, pushing in until he can taste blood. Kuroo’s breath hitches and he arches into Kenma. “Fuck,” he whispers.

Kuroo tastes even better than he smells, something savory and sweet at once. Kenma closes his eyes and breathes deep. “Fuck,” he says, as he lets go. “ _Fuck_.”

Kuroo stares up at him, hands curling onto his back. “I thought you didn’t want to think about sex for a month,” he murmurs.

“I didn’t,” Kenma says. “But you smell so good.”

Kuroo arches again, and the smell of slick hits Kenma’s nose and it’s over. Kenma snarls and pushes Kuroo back into the bed.

It’s not like it’d be their first time. Kenma’s fingered Kuroo plenty of times and Kuroo has sucked Kenma off plenty of times. But Kenma’s never had a knot before.

“Lube,” he says. “Now.”

Kuroo fumbles for the side of the bedside table, dragging it out and clattering through it until he nearly nails Kenma in the head with a bottle of lube. Kuroo’s so wet when Kenma gets his pants down that Kenma isn’t sure he needs it, but Kenma firmly believes there’s no such thing as too much lube.

Sex has always been awkward for him. All of it is awkward, from the navigating of limbs, the smells and the sounds and the way everything’s sticky and hot and skin never feels right when you’re trying to touch it in a sexy way. Even now, surrounded by Kuroo’s thickening scent, Kenma just feels weird about a non-negligible fraction of this.

“Kenma,” Kuroo croaks, voice an octave higher than usual and fingers twisting like he wants to clap them over his mouth to catch the moan clearly bubbling up in his throat. “Kenma, your scent was already really powerful but now I seriously think if you knot me it’s going to set off my heat.”

“Oh holy fuck,” Kenma says, without meaning to or needing to push the words through an uncooperative throat. Suddenly all that matters is shoving two fingers into Kuroo’s dripping hole and stretching him before Kenma loses his fucking mind.

Kuroo really does cover his mouth this time, letting out a noise that’s somewhere between a sob and a moan. Kenma only manages to keep from shoving two more fingers in before Kuroo’s really ready for it by putting his tongue between the fingers already there.

Kenma has eaten Kuroo out before, but it’s usually a bit of a chore, a chore that’s just a little gross, like doing dishes. Alpha hormones, apparently, help with that a lot, because Kuroo’s slick tastes so damn good that Kenma lets out a snarling, vicious moan and sinks his face into it.

He’s definitely going to feel gross about this later, but it’ll be a fairly mellow grossness that is absolutely worth the way this feels _now_.

“Shit!” Kuroo keens, hips jolting and knee dragging across the sheets in a way that makes Kenma abandon his mission to taste every inch of Kuroo’s insides he can reach with his tongue and instead flip him so he can bite at Kuroo’s knee as he finally risks those extra fingers. He bites down on the skin of Kuroo’s thigh hard enough that he can focus on Kuroo’s noises as Kenma pumps his fingers a few times.

Kuroo whines and grinds down onto Kenma’s fingers, definitely not in pain. His hole is so much slicker than ever before and the give of it is noticeably better. Still, Kenma has to pinch his nose shut to clear his head, because as tempting as it is to go with his alpha instincts and assume that Kuroo’s omega body will automatically respond well to his knot, Kenma really doesn’t want to strain him.

Kuroo looks at him blearily, eyes glassy and cheeks rosy. “What?” he asks, voice shaking.

“Just a second,” Kenma instructs, breathing through his mouth a few times. He can still taste Kuroo, so it’s not as effective as he hopes, but he still manages to slide his pinky in to stretch Kuroo a little further instead of just pushing in.

Kuroo doesn’t seem as relieved about this as Kenma does, squirming and trying to get Kenma’s fingers in deeper.

“Wait, wait fuck,” Kenma says, withdrawing his hand and laying down on his back, holding his breath and pinching his nose again. “Birth control. Are you on birth control?”

“What?” Kuroo slurs.

“Birth control,” Kenma repeats, crawling out of the bed on his hands and knees to the sink so he can turn on the cold water and stick his head under it.

“ _Alpha,_ ” Kuroo pleads.

Kenma searches blindly on the counter behind him for a cup and fills it, splashing it in Kuroo’s face.

It is not his most elegant solution, and Kuroo blinks at him like he doesn’t know whether to be mean or cry. “ _Kenma_ ,” he whines, sitting up, legs sprawled out.

“Are you on birth control?” Kenma manages, hands on his knees as he breathes heavily.

“Of course I’m on fucking birth control,” Kuroo snaps. “You think I haven’t been planning for you to raw me ever since I heard you went into rut?!”

Kenma throws a pillow in his face. “You didn’t tell _me_!”

“I thought you’d _know!”_ Kuroo says, the harsh note of his voice fading back out into that higher, needier whimper. “Kenma, _please_.”

“Damn,” Kenma says. “Fuck.” It’s possible his difficulties speaking come from the fact that he doesn’t always have much intelligent to say. Or possibly that’s Kuroo’s scent, which is, in fact, starting to smell suspiciously like a heat and is muddling Kenma’s brain.

In possibly the most reckless move Kenma has ever made with Kuroo, Kenma does not test Kuroo with his fingers one more time. This is partly because Kuroo is already rolling onto his stomach and partly because Kenma used up all of his decision making capabilities to correct his mistake in not asking about birth control before they even got to the damn room.

“Fuck,” Kenma says yet again, hauling Kuroo’s hips up while Kuroo claws at the sheets, losing it even more thoroughly than Kenma.

Their height difference is both a gift and a struggle right now. A gift, because Kuroo’s thighs have to be spread wide for Kenma to fit between them comfortably, but a struggle because he’s not tall enough to sink his teeth into his mark as he rolls his hips into Kuroo’s.

Instead he bites into Kuroo’s back, leaving another mark at just the right height to reach it easily as he grips Kuroo’s hips and pulls him into a thrust. Kuroo keens, and Kenma sees red, biting even harder and pressing fingers in hard enough to bruise.

The taste of blood in his mouth and the smell and the warmth around him are almost on the edge of too much and there’s a second where he thinks he might have to tap out again. He unclenches his jaw instead and presses his forehead to Kuroo’s hot back, breathing deep as he rolls his hips steadily. His hands slide into the sheets instead of Kuroo’s sides, gripping them tight for enough purchase to fuck into Kuroo deep and long each time.

Kuroo’s muscles wind tight under his skin and Kenma watches them in a haze. Kuroo’s always had a nice back, and it’s even nicer when he’s presenting for Kenma.

Holy shit, he’s _presenting_ for Kenma, legs spread and back bowed and sobbing into the pillows.  

Kenma shakes his head, lifting up and grabbing Kuroo’s thighs. He takes in the way Kuroo’s hands twist into the sheets, flickering between trying to hold on and clawing at them in an attempt to push himself into the thrusts harder. His toes are curling so much that his feet are arching up, shaking.

Kenma thrusts in hard, and while the noise Kuroo makes, a gurgling cry, is nice, it’s not what Kenma wants. He thrusts in harder, testing how much force he needs. Kuroo cries out again, but it breaks midway, ending in a breathless gasp.

Kenma closes his eyes and takes a whiff of that heat-rich smell, almost dripping in the thick air around them, positions himself, and replicates the earlier thrust, then does it again and again and again until he’s finally gotten into enough of a rhythm that he can just focus on that, in and out and in and out…

The threat of overstimulation still lingers, but the fast rhythm helps. Kenma tries to regulate his breathing for a few seconds before he gives up, just goes along for the ride as Kuroo writhes, noises catching in this throat in breathy, whiny little gasps.

Kenma’s dick catches on Kuroo’s rim and he slows down a little, instead making sure to hit Kuroo’s prostate at the right angles. His knot swells, and Kuroo comes on an aggressive grind downwards, crying out into the pillows. Kenma keeps grinding, and Kuroo arches, breath coming out in pants and sobs.

Kuroo shudders again, limbs flailing as he comes again on Kenma’s knot, and then curls up as he rolls right into his third orgasm, shaking and sniffling.

Kenma slows his grinding to nothing but an idle rock, sliding one hand under Kuroo to rub at the twitching, jumping muscles there. Kuroo’s shaking quells, and Kenma shifts back to catch his breath.

Kuroo yelps, muscles locking up as the absent grind of Kenma’s knot somehow manages to wrench a fourth orgasm out of him.

“Oh, shit,” Kenma manages.

Kuroo collapses, boneless and quivering.

“Do you think you can turn around?” Kenma asks.

Kuroo shakes his head into the pillows. Kenma slowly eases his leg up. “I’m going to turn you, ok?”

Kuroo nods silently, whimpering a little as Kenma lifts one of his legs over his own head, easing the other out comfortably so Kuroo can lay on his back. He can feel Kuroo’s slick walls shifting around his knot and he shivers, though not as much as Kuroo, jolting. His throat catches on an overwhelmed mewl and he clutches at the bed under him, eyes squeezed shut.

“Ok,” Kenma breathes, slowly lowering himself down. “I’m going to lay on you.”

“Ok,” Kuroo croaks, breathing hard.

Kenma tries to do what he can not to tug at the knot too much, resting his head on Kuroo’s chest.

“I think I’m in heat,” Kuroo manages, voice shaking and fluctuating.

“Ew,” Kenma says, because he’s not looking forward to three or four more days of sex so soon after his rut.

“Sorry,” Kuroo warbles, clearly still muddled.

“Oh,” Kenma says, twisting to look up at Kuroo’s face. He looks thoroughly overwhelmed in every way, eyes watering and lip quivering.

Shit. Being alpha and omega shouldn’t change their dynamic much. Being an omega has never made Kuroo less headstrong and being an alpha doesn’t make Kenma feel any more outgoing. But heats and ruts are different. Kuroo has already been more sensitive during and after his heats, and of course he’d be even more responsive to an alpha. Kenma will have to dial his snark back even more than he already did when Kuroo is like this.

“Hey,” Kenma says, in the gentlest voice he’s ever allowed himself. Anyone else would probably coo at him for this voice, and the thought makes him ridiculously mad. But Kuroo is not going to coo, wouldn’t coo even if his brain wasn’t mush. “Hey, I didn’t mean that. You did great, you’re great.”

“Yeah?” Kuroo says, and he huffs a few sobs before his breathing evens out a little. He’s starting to look a little more lucid, if still exhausted in ways Kuroo just doesn’t get exhausted. “Ok, I… oh, I feel weird.”

“It’s ok,” Kenma reassures, resting his chin on Kuroo’s chest. “I’ve got you. I’ll get you through your heat, no problem.”

“I know that,” Kuroo complains, sounding more like his bratty, dorky self again and some tension Kenma didn’t even realize he held eases. “Gods. I don’t know if I need another round or if I’d rather die. And I’m _hungry_.”

“We’ll just wait until the knot goes down and then I’ll get you food,” Kenma says. “I’ll even go out and order something all alone if you want.”

Kuroo laughs and sniffles, wiping his nose on his wrist. “Thanks,” he says. “Now I know I’m your soulmate.”

“Of course,” Kenma says. “I would never do such a thing for any other omega.”

Kuroo puts his hands over his face. “If you’re going to be like this during my heats you’ll have to ease me into it!” he cries. “I’m going to cry!”

“You know I always think these things,” Kenma says. “I’m just saying them because feel like you need to hear them more right now.”

“I hate youuuuuuu,” Kuroo weeps from behind his hands.

Kenma hasn’t really felt this relaxed for a long while, surrounded by Kuroo and his scent, and he chuckles, massaging Kuroo’s side. “It’s ok,” he promises. “We’ll figure this out as we go. And next time we can try to sync up my rut with your heat. I think I’d enjoy it if it’s you I’m fucking instead of my hand.”

“How’d you survive all that cum even?” Kuroo laughs, though he’s still crying pretty heavily. Startlingly, it makes his laugh _even uglier_.

“Dissociation,” Kenma says.

Kuroo bursts into hysterical giggles, and for once Kenma laughs just as hard with him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey if you've ever seen any alpha!Kenma fics ever anywhere for any ship hit me up.


End file.
